


In My Dreams

by bavarian_angel



Category: MotoGP RPF, Motorcycling RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Dreams, Hospitals, Letters, Love Confessions, Multi, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-23 02:11:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18145436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bavarian_angel/pseuds/bavarian_angel
Summary: Jorge had been dreaming about Marc.





	In My Dreams

The race had been red flagged. They had finished more than two thirds of the distance and normally Marc would have stood on the top step of the podium today. But nothing was normal any more.

Instead of sitting in his cava soaked leathers in front of the press, Marc was standing in a small private waiting room in a hospital. His team clothing stuck to his still clammy skin, while he was nervously biting his lip. The room was full of Honda personal, everybody either quiet or talking in low voices. There were no news on Jorge yet.

In retrospect, Marc wasn’t sure if it had been the right decision of starting the race in these conditions. But it wasn’t like they could change anything now.

For what seemed like the millionth time, Marc replayed the moment in his head. Jorge must have been insane to try to overtake him in that corner. Just yesterday, during FP3, Marc had crashed there himself after hitting a patch of standing water. After rather feeling than seeing the other Honda in the corner of his eye, Marc had to break way earlier to avoid hitting Jorge... or maybe he would have ended up like his teammate as well. Marc had seen Jorge slipping off track, but there had been no time to think about it as he needed all of his concentration for the track.

The first red flag he had seen, had been at the end of the start-finish-straight. Marc immediately slowed down, but as he had just missed the pit lane, he had to run one more lap to leave the track. And it had been with a sinking heart that he had seen the ambulance in the corner where Jorge had crashed just moments ago.

It had taken them ages to treat Jorge. The whole Repsol Honda garage had been eerily quiet while they had watched the screens. Even before the ambulance had finally taken off, race direction had cancelled the rest of the race...

Marc noticed somebody moving on his side and when he turned his head, he saw Hector’s tired face. He must have just come back from telling the press that there were no news yet; Jorge was still in emergency surgery.

“You okay?”

Marc watched the older man’s face drop at his question. Not meeting Marc’s eyes, Hector pulled out a folded envelope from the pocket of his trousers, before holding it out towards Marc.

At first he didn’t know what to do, didn’t understand what Hector wanted from him right now...

“After the press conference on Thursday... Jorge asked me to give that to you... in case... in case something happened to him this weekend...”

Hector let out a heavy breath after mumbling those words, his hand shaking, while still holding on to the envelope.

“What...?”

“It’s for you... I’m so sorry, Marc.”

Shoving the envelope into Marc’s hands, Hector fled from the waiting room, leaving behind a few puzzled looks - but Marc’s eyes were firmly on the paper in his hands. He did recognize Jorge’s handwriting on the front, the two letters only saying ‘For Marc’.

For a long moment, Marc hesitated. He had no idea why Jorge would write him a letter - and how could he have known that something would happen...?

Retreating into the corner of the room, turning his back towards his team, Marc opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper. The writing was neat and definitely not written in a haste...

 

_My dear Marc,_

_You probably have that look on your face, deeply in concentration, trying to understand something..._

_Well, if you’re actually reading this, it means that something happened this weekend. I will give this to Hector and maybe he can throw it away after the chequered flag on Sunday. That would only proof that I’m crazy after all._

_You see, Marc... I keep dreaming about you. (And I know how ridiculous that sounds!) To be honest, I can’t even remember when it started, but I think it must have been after 2010 because that was the year I really started noticing you._

_Back then it was mostly your talent and I already knew that you would have one heck of a career ahead of you. And it wasn’t just that sort of feeling inside your chest of which you can be certain; no, it was because I actually saw it in my dreams._

_So, you see, for several years now, I see you in my dreams and I see what will happen to you... I know it sounds crazy and believe me, it took me ages until I realized it wasn’t just pictures my brain produces at night._

_Actually it was a particular weekend when I noticed something, someone, karma, the universe, I don’t know, showed me your future. And I saw your crash in Sepang, the night before it happened, sleeping in my bed all those miles away from you. At first I shook it off as a freaking coincidence, but new pictures turned up in my dreams, pictures of you from that winter, you not knowing how things would turn out with your eye..._

_And it was in these few months that I started seeing you in a new light. I often woke up with a yearning in my chest - and sometimes with something I hadn’t experienced since I had been a teenager._

_From that time on, I was looking forward to see you in my dreams, because I knew that in real life I could never get that close to you. That you would never look at me the way I look at you when nobody else is watching. And that has basically been my life in the last 8 years._

_In a certain way I was closer to you than anybody else, but only in my dreams. I have seen so many things before they had come to pass - you winning the Moto2 title, your first year in Repsol Honda, your first MotoGP title (and still that didn’t stop me from fighting in Valencia, I wouldn’t let you win it that easy)._

_There were also private things - the breakdown in Alex’s arms when you first heard about the Andorra backlash, you trying to find love in strangers’ arms, only to get your heart broken again and again because those girls were only seeing MM93 and not the real Marc._

_I have seen him and I have fallen for him. Please don’t throw this away yet. I know that you would never feel like this for me, that you’re not into guys despite those never ending rumours. Because if I had seen one tiny hint, no reasoning could have stopped me from trying._

_And actually I did try, in my dreams. It was in those nights, when we both appeared in my dreams, that I could also see what would happen if I changed things, I saw consequences that in the end didn’t occur because I stepped back and let fate deal with it again. Let’s say that you were not the only one that left Sepang 2015 with some wounds inside. And the hurt I experienced in that dream - in which I came to see you in your hotel room, when I pulled you in and tasted traces of tears on your lips, before you pushed me away with disgust on your face - that stopped me from any other try to tell you how I feel. At least until about four weeks ago..._

_I started having the same dream over and over again. Over and over again I saw you crash and not get up again, the pictures repeating themselves every single night, no matter what I tried in those dreams to stop it from happening._

_And in between, I got glimpses from another you - you winning more titles than Valentino, you meeting the love of your life and having the family you always dreamed of. And let me tell you, there’s nothing more beautiful than you with your child in your arms, looking at them with so much unconditional love._

_Yet it didn’t make any sense because I kept seeing you crashing, kept seeing you in the gravel, kept seeing the doctors fighting in vain..._

_Until I finally realized what the connection between those different visions were. In your bright future, I wasn’t there, not a hint of my existence, always seeing the pictures from another person’s perspective. And that was when I knew what I would have to do to make sure that you get to see and live this future..._

_Marc, at first I had thought of it as a curse that my life seemed to kept turning around you, but now I know it had been a blessing. Even though I never got your love in return, I would keep looking forward to see you in real life and in my dreams. And the feeling this left in my heart, I never experienced it with any other person._

_I love you, Marc, I love you so much. I really hope that this bright future is waiting for you and hopefully I will be able to watch you from the other side. Please try everything that those wonderful things will happen because then I know that I have made everything right. That it had been the right thing to lose my heart to you..._

_I love you and maybe think of me from time to time._

_Jorge_

 

Marc kept reading and reading those words while tears kept running down his face. He bit his fist to keep himself from sobbing. Somehow he wished that it was him who was dreaming right now, but then you couldn’t feel pain in your dreams and the hurt he felt was very much real.

He had no idea how much time had passed without him moving, without noticing anything around him. Only when he felt José Luis’ hand on his shoulder, he looked up.

His friend’s voice seemed miles away and there were only fragments getting through the mist of what he was saying.

_Surgery over... unstable... intensive care... might not make it..._

In the end, Marc had no idea how he had made his body moving, but while holding the letter tightly in his hand, he found himself running for the door, running towards the place he was being drawn to - and somehow, he ended up on one side of a window, looking inside a room where he could barely recognize Jorge in between machines, drips and bandages.

He could hear people running towards him, calling his name, but all Marc could do, was laying his hand on the cold surface of the glass, trying to get a connection despite the distance between them.

“I swear to God... don’t you dare fucking leave me now. You hear me, Jorge? Don’t you dare...”


End file.
